


Familiaris Sempiterna

by ProneToRelapse



Series: Demons & Domesticity [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Demons, Demon Connor, Demon Connor is a Good DadTM, Domesticity, Fluff, Hank is so in love, Humor, M/M, Spontaneous Proposals, family life, parents evening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 02:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15764718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProneToRelapse/pseuds/ProneToRelapse
Summary: Hank needs to speak to Cole's teacher for parents evening. He's completely of the mind that Connor should be there, too.





	Familiaris Sempiterna

**Author's Note:**

> trying to pretend this didn't take me an unreasonable amount of time to write. lost my mojo for a while there because of work and i just :)))))))))))))))))
> 
> BUT!! I should be back now!

Hank takes a moment to just listen before he unlocks the front door. He’s tired and stressed but he makes an effort to leave all of that at the door when he gets home. Work is work and, as much as Connor is always willing to listen when Hank rants about a difficult case or a stressful day, he prefers to leave all that negativity at the precinct, and come home to warmth and love and family.  

 

He can hear giggling inside, high-pitched and carefree and his heart swells a little at the sound of it. He’d almost forgotten that sound, back in that dark time almost a year ago now. Forgotten the feeing of holding his son in his arms. Now he has that back, it’s almost too much to wrap his head around. A second chance at life because he was willing do sell his soul for another shred of happiness.  

 

He unlocks the door when the urge becomes too great, and he’s almost floored by the tiny child that catapults himself at Hank’s legs. He laughs and scoops up the beaming boy, rubbing his beard all over rosy cheeks.  

 

“Hey, kiddo. How’re you doing?” 

 

“Good!” Cole chirps, throwing little arms round Hank’s neck. “We learned about dinosaurs at school today!” 

 

Hank grins as Cole launches into an exact play-by-play of his day, carrying him through to the kitchen where Connor is waiting. He leans in to kiss the demon softly, humming happily as Connor gives his backside a playful squeeze.  

 

“I was just telling Cole about the Archaeopteryx,” Connor says, leaning back. “How they were formed from clouds and starlight just like him.” Connor gives Cole an affectionate tap on the nose and Cole giggles happily.  

 

“Aha,” Hank says, eyebrows raised. “And that’s not gonna get awkward questions asked, is it?” 

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’m lying. I was there.” 

 

“Yeah, but maybe stick to the syllabus?” 

 

Hank let’s Cole down and the kid scarpers off to play with Sumo. Connor takes the opportunity to slip fully into Hank’s arms and give him a proper welcome home kiss.  

 

“I missed you,” Connor murmurs, fingers tangling in the loose strands of hair at the nape of Hank’s neck. “You feel tense. Bad day?” 

 

“Stressful,” Hank says. “But I’m better now.” He steals another kiss that has Connor purring happily. “How’d the bake sale go?” 

 

Connor’s smile turns, for want of a better word, frankly demonic. His fangs glint just past full lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well,” he says, rubbing his fingers into Hank’s knotted shoulders to coax out a grateful groan. “Very well. Janet’s brownies were undercooked and made some children quite ill, unfortunately.” 

 

“Connor…” 

 

“It was harmless enough. Let me have my fun.” 

 

Hank shakes his head, exasperated but amused all the same. He pecks Connor’s cheek again before moving away to head to the bedroom to change.  

 

“Cole,” Connor calls. “Go wash up for dinner, please!” 

 

“Yes, pa!” 

 

Hank grins to himself. He’s so incredibly fucking lucky.  

 

 

 

— 

 

 

 

“A letter came in the post,” Connor says over dinner. Hank looks up from his meal, swallowing a mouthful before answering.  

 

“Good or bad?” 

 

“Neither. It’s parents evening next Tuesday. You’ll need to ask Jeffery to let you leave early.” 

 

Parents evening, of course. God, Hank hates these things. Sitting there making nice with the teachers who tell him Cole’s incredibly bright and all the shit he already knows, but still somehow find a way to needle him about certain aspects of his kid’s behaviour. Like kids aren’t unpredictable little shits who sometimes do stupid stuff. Hank’s pretty sure he used to eat paste as a kid and he turned out fine.  

 

More or less.  

 

He clears his throat with a sip of water. “What time?” 

 

“Cole’s timeslot is at six. You’ll be meeting Miss Williams.” Connor’s eyes tighten somewhat. Hank wonders what this Miss Williams has possible done to rub Connor up the wrong way. Well, only one way to find out.  

 

“We,” Hank corrects, almost like an afterthought.  

 

Connor pauses, glass halfway to his mouth. “Pardon?” 

 

“We. You’re coming with me.” 

 

Connor blinks. “Oh. I. Oh.” 

 

Hank grins at him. “Parents evening, Con.  _Parents._ You’re coming too _.”_  

 

Connor looks for all the world like somebody has hit him over the head with something hard and blunt. It’s almost comical, how wide his eyes are and the shocked slackness of his mouth. He snaps his mouth shut after a long moment, swallowing hard twice before wrapping himself in an air of polite disinterest.  

 

“Of course,” he says, pushing food around his plate with a fork. “I’ll meet you at the station at five fifteen and we can go together.” 

 

Hank smirks into his food. “Sure, honey. Whatever you want.” He turns to Cole. “So, anything you need to tell us before your teacher makes you confess all your sins?” 

 

“I bit Louis Denvers,” Cole admits at the same time Connor interjects “he had it coming”. 

 

Hank nearly chokes on a slice of carrot he laughs so hard.  

 

 

— 

 

 

Later after dinner is cleared away and Cole is asleep, Hank is perfectly content to sit and watch tv with a beer until he dozes off, get in a bit of cuddling action with Connor while it’s quiet. He just wants to while away the last hours of the day in relative peace before he has to get up tomorrow and head back to the precinct and watching something mind-numbing on tv while Connor is sprawled out on top of him sounds utterly perfect.  

 

Or it  _did_ , at least.  

 

He sees the movement out of the corner of his eye, head turning to follow the sight of Connor literally sashaying down the hall towards the bedroom, hips swaying side to side as he walks. Hank can’t stop himself from leaning forward in his seat to watch and, just as Connor reaches the door of their room he lets his shirt slip from slender arms to pool on the floor at his feet, leaving him bare and glowing pale in the dim light.  

 

Hank’s only human, after all. What else are you supposed to do when your demon boyfriend offers you an invitation like that?  

 

Connor is halfway through slipping his boxers off when Hank accosts him from behind, arms sliding round his waist and hoisting him up against his chest, prompting a bubble of delighted laughter from the demon as he hauls them both down onto the bed. Hank grins down at him, arms bracketing Connor’s shoulders, as he leans up eagerly for a kiss that steals the breath from his lungs. Slim fingers push into his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp and he hums happily, lowering his body down against Connor’s so the demon can arch up against him.  

 

“I love you,” Connor murmurs against his lips, one leg drifting up to hitch over Hank’s hip. “You don’t know how happy you make me.” 

 

“I have some idea,” Hank rumbles back, catching that full bottom lip lightly between his teeth. A purr ripples through Connor’s chest that Hank feels more than he hears.  

 

“I have a son,” Connor tells him, awe in his tone. “I have a son and a partner and a  _dog._ All things I was never supposed to have. I’m a denizen of the netherrealm, I’m not meant to have a  _family_.” 

 

“Well you’ve got one,” Hank says, leaning down to bite the pale column of Connor’s throat and drawing out a sinful gasp in the process. “We made a deal, remember?” 

 

Connor makes a delighted sound, fingers curling tight in Hank’s hair and prompting a low groan from his throat. His skin is so cool under Hank’s lips and tongue, smoother than marble but softer than silk. He’s a fucking vision made up of hundreds of complex little contradictions and Hank has made it his life’s mission to kiss every inch of his body. And if anyone told him he’d think that about  _anybody_ , he’d‘ve laughed in their face and body checked them for good measure as he walked away.  

 

“You’re our family,” Hank breathes against the sharp curve of Connor’s right collarbone. “ _My_  family,” he murmurs against the hollow of his neck. “ _Mine,”_ he purrs against the center of his chest, right over his heart. Connor keens, arching under him, searching desperately for more contact between them.  

 

And Hank… Thinks. And the thought strikes him momentarily dumb. He stills so suddenly above Connor that the demon clutches his shoulders, dipping his head to try and catch the human’s eyes.  

 

“Hank? What’s wrong?” His voice is pitched low, uncertain. One hand cups Hank’s face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “What is it?” 

 

Hank blinks and feels the smile that creeps across his face, so wide and so genuine he’s powerless to stop it. He turns his head, pressing a kiss to Connor’s palm, nuzzling into his touch until the demon beneath him relaxes from his momentary clutch of tension.  

 

“I just…” Hank sighs, looking down at those deep brown eyes that have quickly become his world. “I wasn’t… I’m not even close to prepared but… I just thought…” 

 

“Hank.” Connor’s eyebrows are pinched with displeasure. “I’d very much appreciate it if you’d spit it out.” 

 

Hank smiles, somewhat helplessly. He’s never been spontaneous. He’s never just s _eized the moment_ and damned the consequences. Even searching for a way to bring Cole back took weeks of research and planning. He’s never just said “fuck it,” and taken what he wants without hemming and hawing over the outcomes until he’s stressed beyond belief about possibilities that may never happen.  

 

Not until now, anyway.  

 

“Marry me,” Hank says. Connor rolls his eyes affectionately.  

 

“See? You didn’t have to be so— What.” 

 

Hank bites back a grin, exhilaration thrilling through his blood at the sight of abject  _shock_  plastered across Connor’s face. He stares up at Hank with wide eyes, mouth open in a slack O of surprise. He seems completely unable to speak. Which would normally be hilarious, if Hank wasn’t kind of waiting anxiously for an answer.  

 

“Connor…?” He prompts gently. The demon shakes himself violently, blinking owlishly.  

 

“I.” He swallows. “Did you…” 

 

“Spit it out,” Hank teases.  

 

The breath gets punched out of him a second later and he finds himself flat on his back on the mattress with a lapful of ecstatic demon, having the life and soul kissed out of him like it’s his last night on Earth. He holds up valiantly under the onslaught until his lungs start to protest and he has to physically shove Connor back with his hands against his chest. He takes a couple of deep breaths, grinning dopily up at the demon straddling his waist.  

 

“So, is that a—“ 

 

“ _Yes.”_ Connor beams like the fucking sun. “Of course I will.” 

 

And… That’s that. Apparently. Yeah, apparently Hank’s fucking engaged now. Hell, he’d sworn off marriage entirely after he and Andy fell apart, but fuck if Connor doesn’t make him want to take back every stupid promise he made about his life back before he knew what true happiness actually felt like. He doesn’t even have a fucking ring, has only ever thought about this in abstract during quiet moments when he considers his future and doesn’t actively shudder away from the whole concept.  

 

Connor makes him want to have that future. More so now that Cole is back in his life.  

 

So fuck yeah, he’ll make this happen. He’ll tie down this demon every way he possibly can just so he can keep him around for a little longer. Because the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to see Connor at every milestone in his life that’s still to come. He wants to send Cole off to college with a Connor at his side. He wants Connor to be there when Cole brings home his first partner. He wants him there when Hank finally retires and can spend the rest of his years with this stupidly loveable demon who owns his heart and soul.  

 

And that might not even be figurative.  

 

Sure as hell isn’t figurative when Connor rides him into the mattress so hard his horns unsheathe.  

 

  

— 

 

 

Miss Williams isn’t anything like Hank had imagined. She’s a young, soft spoken woman with a gentle, pretty face and kind eyes. Her hair is blonde and cropped short, almost tomboyish, and she shakes Hank’s hand with a confident grip as she tells him to call her Kara.   

 

Cole sits quietly between Connor and Hank as they sit down opposite her in chairs made for the ridiculously tiny. The embarrassment is lessened somewhat by the amusement of seeing Connor’s coltishly long legs bent up almost to his chin. Hank manages a more relaxed sprawl despite his extra few inches of height. 

 

“I’d like to start off by saying that Cole is an absolute delight to teach,” Kara tells them. Cole flushes a little and Connor ruffles his hair affectionately. “He’s unfailingly helpful and exceptionally bright.” 

 

“That’s my boy,” Hank says, making a mental note to stop off at the store for something incredibly unhealthy and smothered in chocolate for after dinner tonight.  

 

Kara smiles warmly but it shrinks away from her eyes a little as she shuffled through the papers on her desk. “However, there are a few…” She hesitates. “Things I’d like to discuss with you.” 

 

Hank tenses, throwing a glance at Connor who sits up a little straighter in the tiny chair. It doesn’t help. It still looks ridiculous.  

 

“What sort of things?” Connor asks, leaning forward over his knees. Kara passed him a sheet of paper wordlessly and Connor holds it up in front of him, brows drawing together as he looks it over. Hank leans towards him to get a better look.  

 

“We asked the students to draw a picture and write a little bit about what they did over the Christmas holidays,” Kara explains and Hank feels icy water trickle down his spine. “As you can see, the picture Cole drew raises a few… Concerns.” 

 

Hank’s not fucking surprised. The picture is heavy crayon streaks of reds, yellows and oranges, jerky lines indicating fire. There’s a small stick figure in the centre with the tag “me” and a taller figure next to it labelled “papa”. The scrawling cursive underneath reads “ _i did not_ _celabrat_ _chrismis_ _last year_ _becoz_ _i was dead_ ”. 

 

Hank tries very,  _very_ hard not to laugh. Mainly because the situation is neither funny nor an appropriate time for it. But his first instinct is to laugh it off, wave it away with some throwaway line about kids being kids. But he has the sinking feeling that there might be more to this than just the one picture.  

 

“Anything else?” Hank forces himself to ask despite not wanting to make anything out of his at all. Kara nods and passes over another sheet of paper, this one entirely filled in with black paint. Hank has flashbacks to his goth phase in high school and starts to sweat uncomfortably.  

 

“Oh!” Connor says, leaning forward. “That’s a lovely picture of Nines, Cole!” 

 

“Thanks!” Cole chirps while both Kara and Hank stare at Connor with wide eyes.  

 

“My brother,” Connor says like that explains it. Hank didn’t even know he  _had_  a brother. “He’s… rather difficult to draw, but Cole’s got his likeness down perfectly.” 

 

 _Demons_ , Hank thinks, with no small amount of despair.  

 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Connor continues with a dismissive wave of his hand. “My family are rather peculiar. We spent last Christmas with them and I’m afraid Cole may have picked up some of their more… singular quirks.” He smiles winningly and Hank recognises the dark glint in his eyes that follows the easy lie. “But I’ll talk to Cole about more appropriate ways to convey his thoughts. I understand why you were concerned.” 

 

It’s always disconcerting watching Connor bend someone’s will to his own. He creeps in like a shadow, passing over their eyes like a shutter, sniffing out the cognisant light there like a doused candle flame. He watches it happen to Kara now, watches the concerned pinch leave her expression, replaced by a docile smile as she hands over the rest of Cole’s incriminating school work.  

 

“A pleasure talking with you,” Kara says airily as the three of them make a hasty retreat.  

 

They manage to make it into the car, Cole strapped into his seat in the back, before Hank and Connor fall about into hysterics.  

 

“That’s some Addam’s Family  _shit_!” Hank gasps, clutching his stomach. Connor howls into his arms where they’re folded over the top of the steering wheel, shoulders shuddering with the force of his laughter. “Hi, yeah, this is my uncle Nines, the  _cavernous black void._ ” 

 

“S-Stop,” Connor stutters, wiping tears away from his eyes as he tries to compose himself. “It’s not  _funny_ _!_ _”_  

 

“It  _really_  fucking is.” 

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Cole asks timidly from the back seat, prompting both of his fathers to immediately turn, sobered, to console him.  

 

“Not at all,” Hank says. “You hear me kiddo? Not even a little bit. Just… Don’t tell people you died, okay? That’s… That’s something only your dads can know about, okay?” 

 

“Hank,” Connor breathes, holding up another page of Cole’s schoolwork. His eyes are saucer wide and his lips tremble with suppressed laughter.  

 

“Oh god. What?” 

 

“‘I spent my summer vacation in Hell’,” Connor recites and Hank falls about all over again.  

 

“Well,” Hank says when he can finally control his amusement, starting the car and pulling away from the parking space towards the store. “Better invite your weird ass family over soon. I should probably meet them before we actually get hitched. You said your brother’s called, what, Nines?” 

 

“Yes. He’s one of my siblings.” 

 

“How many do you have?” 

 

“That I’m close with? Five.” 

 

“And… that you’re not close with?” 

 

“About eight million.” 

 

Fucking  _demons._ “…Well, you can cook, then.” 

 

 

 

 


End file.
